The Unruly Toy
by Elah
Summary: In a pet store, a young cat meets Brian Kinney who needs a cat, but regardless, will Brian take the cat to his loft? What has the cat do to manage such a feat?
1. Chapter 1: When a Cat Meets a Man

_**When a Man Meets a Cat, and a Cat Meets a Man**_

The cat blew up. There's nothing odd about that. The oddity is in the fact that Brian Kinney didn't anticipate it. Brian should have. The man was with the cat right from the beginning. Brian should have known better.

The cat opened his baby blue eyes again at the 15th of March, 2007. The first thing the cat saw in this one of his nine lives was Brian. It was the cat's sixth life, so he was supposed to be quite well acquainted with the peculiarities of his human play-things. But nothing in his five former lives had prepared him to the likes of Brian Kinney.

First of all, at the moment when the cat opened his eyes, his new toy was not looking at the cat. Nothing like that. The toy was looking at something completely irrelevant; what has a dog ever done of any interest? Right away, the cat meowed. It was time that Brian took interest in him. Of course, the cat did not know then that Brian was Brian, but, anyway, the meow got the desired effect. The toy turned its face to the appropriate direction. At last the toy saw him, its new owner.

But the toy did not smile; the toy wasn't completely won over by the cat's cuteness as it should have been. The tiny bundle of furry joy did every cute thing he knew about. He pretended that he could not get to his stubby feet and, therefore, fell over. As if he had feebly tried to chase his tail, he nipped at it; for some reason, the toys thought that it was the cutest thing. He let his pink tongue loll out even if he knew how ridiculous that was. What a cat must do a cat must do. His toy had to learn to behave in the appropriate manner.

But the cat's new toy was not like the other toys. Instead of patting the cat gently on the top of his head, his newest toy grabbed the cat by his neck like it was his mama-cat. How humiliating! The cat was already more than fife lives old. Even his mama-cat had quickly stopped carrying him like that, like he was a first timer. With a loud meow, the cat let his toy know his indignation. The toy lifted the cat at the level of its eyes.

"What are you whining about, you puny little thing?" the toy growled at the cat. Before he could meow his protest, the toy went on with even worse insult. "There's nothing remarkable about you except for your tail: it's huge. Quite out of proportion with such a skinny ass I would say."

"And you, Brian", at last, the chuckling shopkeeper let the cat know his new toy's name, "know something about ass, that's for sure. I just didn't think that your expertise would range all the way from cock to pussy."

"Maybe my expertise does range onto pussy, but, for sure, it does not range far in that region." The Brian-toy still held the helpless but furious cat at its eye-level, and, without fanfare, lifted the cat even a bit higher. "At least this pussy has a cock", it declared.

The cat tried to claw the big fingers that held him, but it did him no good. The pin pricks of his claws just made the Brian-toy shake him. Where was the respect? He was due the respect of his toy. The cat sank his teeth into the thump of the Brian-toy.

"You moth-eaten little mitten," the Brian-toy growled, and, unceremoniously, dropped the cat back in his box. "I'm not sure if I should buy my son a dog, but not in a million years will I buy him a cat."

The toy was actually thinking about buying a dog? Was it insane in addition to being ill-behaved? And, even if the cat did not disagree with his toy not giving him to its son, he did disagree with the sentiment of not buying a cat in a million years. The toy was supposed to buy him at once. How else was he going to keep his toy in check?

"I wonder who would want a thing like you", the Brian-toy said then. "That blond fur of yours would be a nightmare for my cleaning lady. To get it away from my suits and my furniture would make her demand a rise in pay. I wouldn't let you stay in my place for any money", the unruly toy let out next.

What else would come out of that big mouth? The cat did not need to wait for long.

"You remind me of something", the toy said and poked its finger at the cat's nose, "or is it about someone?" The toy cocked its head and looked at the cat.

"Does that cat", and again the toy poked its finger at the cat, "have a name?"

The toy had turned away from the cat, and, instead, was facing the shopkeeper. The cat tried to swat the poking finger with his front paw. Unfortunately, his paw was too small to make a good swat. The shopkeeper told the Brian-toy that the cat had no name. As if. The cat pulled his upper lip back in a tiny whiny snarl. The toy smirked at the cat. The poking finger, anyway, disappeared.

"You could call it Gold, after a boy I once knew. The boy played a fiddle which sounded pretty much as awful as this cat," the toy made its supposedly witty suggestion as it walked to the door.

The cat was not amused.

"It's Justin, you moron!" the cat hissed with rage after the departing man. "You can't just go! You can't leave me here. I want to come home with you, asshole!"


	2. Chapter 2: When a Boy Meets a Dog

_**When a Dog Meets a Boy, and a Cat Meets a Girl**_

The dog seemed perplexed looking at the map. Of course the dog seemed perplexed looking at a carpet, or at a window, or at almost anything. That was a dog thing. The only thing the dog could look at without seeming perplexed was its own bowl and that only if there was food in it. The map definitely was not the dog's bowl with food.

Despite being perplexed, the dog was a master of being a nuisance. It stood up, took a clumsy step towards him and, promptly, collided with him. It was a big thing, the collision. The dog was huge. It was a big clumsy black monster who had no idea of the proper use of its paws. At the moment, one paw was on top of him, Justin the Cat. He wriggled out from under the stupid dog's stupid paw. The paw was about twice the size of him. He snarled at the paw, which just stood there, looking perplexed.

Justin the Cat sighed. This life of his, the sixth, was proving to be a very unfulfilling one. As was proper, his newest toy, the Brian-toy, had come back to the pet store. That was all the toy had done that was proper. Yes, it had bought Justin the Cat, but it had bought the dumb dog, too. And, as if that was not enough, it had given him away just like he had given away the dog. Him, Justin the Cat, given away by his own toy! How humiliating.

The Brian-toy had given Justin the Cat to a very immature female of its kind, a female named either JR or Jenny Rebecca. The cat was not entirely sure which one was the name of the female, since it was called both. The female was quite adequate for a substitute toy, but it was very wrong that his own toy left him with that little female toy. And with the dumb dog.

As had been its idea from the beginning, the Brian-toy had given the dog to its own cub. Apparently everybody knew the immature male's name, since everybody called him Gus. It was also apparent that the immature male was the Brian-toy's cub: it shared the Brian-toy's terrible taste and, so, did not show the proper admiration of the cat. Instead, the Gus-cub seemed to adore the dumb dog. Poor cub.

But Justin the Cat had work to do. He had decided that, if the Brian-toy was not taking him to its house, the house would take him in anyway. He padded along the map. How could it be so hard to find the corner of Tremont and Fuller on the map? If he had been honest with himself, the cat would have admitted to himself that he was pretty much as perplexed as the dog, but he had no intention of being that honest in the near future.

It had been quite easy to find out the Brian-toy's address. A big female that lived in the house had the toy's address in a book which the female kept in a bag. Since, for the most of the time, the bag laid on the floor, the cat had easy access to the book. There it had been, in bold letters, the toy's address. The acquainting of the map had been trickier, but he had managed that too, even if it had taken a dangerous climb along a curtain up to the shelf where the map was kept and down again. So, Justin the Cat had the address and he had the map, but, still he did not succeed.

In frustration, the cat went back to the bag and to the book. He took another look. Then he sat on his ass, perplexed.

_How could his toy have its address in Pittsburgh, USA, when he, Justin the Cat, was in Toronto, Canada?_


	3. Chapter 3: When a Mouse Meets a Cat

_**When a Mouse Meets a Cat, and a Cat Meets a Mouse**_

The mouse went dancing naked. Even though the mouse had had no idea of the part it was playing in Justin the Cat's plan of making its way to his new toy's home in Pittsburgh, the mouse had performed perfectly in its role.

Justin the Cat had devised his plan as soon as he had understood that it would be way too dangerous for a cat of his size by himself to travel all the way from Toronto to Pittsburgh. No, in order to get to the house of his newest toy, Justin the Cat had to come up with a safer way of action. By the facts he knew, he had deduced that the Brian-toy would come to him, eventually. It called the house several times a week. It always wanted to speak with its cub, which was proper, and the JR-or-Jenny-Rebecca-substitute-toy would always tell the Brian-toy the latest greetings from Justin the Cat. The toy had not forgotten its owner, the cat, or its cub. He just needed to be patient and his toy would come. He had waited for four long weeks, and, at last, his toy had arrived. It had been time to put his plan in action. First he had needed a mouse.

The cat found the mouse using the skills he had achieved during his five former lives. By the time his toy arrived, Justin the Cat had completed all the preparations needed for the hunt for the perfect mouse for the task. As it was still early in the spring, and, thereby, there was not much food in the nature, the cat had decided that it was most likely he would find mice in the root cellar of the house he lived in. He was wrong, though. There was no root cellar in the house. Fortunately, the next house to the right had one, and there had been an abundance of mice there. He had caught a bit of weight feeding on them during the weeks of waiting, actually. His tail was looking better than ever. It had never been as bushy, not in one of his former lives. A feline smile decorated the cat's face.

For a skilled cat it had been no difficulty to get a perfect mouse. Justin the Cat had then carried the mouse to the Brian-toy's room. After closing the door, which was no difficulty for a skilled cat, Justin the Cat had started what came naturally for any cat; he started playing with his catch. He had nipped a tuft of hair loose from the back of the mouse. Then he had slipped into the closet and climbed into the pocket of one of the Brian-toy's suit pants and left the tuft there. He had repeated the actions until there was barely any hair on the mouse left; tufts of mouse hair had found their way in every pocket in the closet and various other places in the clothing hanging there, too.

Then had come the tricky part. Justin the Cat had never before tried to ferret out a way to open a suitcase closed with a combination lock. He had made a clumsy start with the numbers, but, in the end, it was easy. Of course, the Brian-toy had used his birthday, 15 th of March, 2007 to lock its suitcase. It was only natural.

As soon as the suitcase was open, he had put the furless mouse inside. Then he had locked the suitcase again, and, then, there had been nothing else to do but sit back and wait for the fruits of his actions.

It had not taken long. The Brian-toy had reacted exactly like he had anticipated. The tufts had made it frantic with worry, and, when it had found the furless mouse in its suitcase, it had gone ballistic. It had come to get Justin the Cat to take care of the pest; a need which Justin the Cat had been all too happy to satisfy. He had chased the mouse around the Brian-toy's room in a merry dance right to the tasty end. As far as Justin the Cat was concerned, for a creature like a mouse, it was a glorious way to go.

"That was quite a performance, Gold," the Brian-toy said. "I think I'll have to buy me a cat when I get back to Pittsburgh. Who would have thought that one day Brian Kinney would get a cat!"

"What? What? What?" Justin the Cat meowed loudly its protest. His toy was contemplating replacing him by another cat? How humiliating!

"And I'm Justin," he meowed as the toy smirked at him, "not Gold, asshole!"


End file.
